


alleged allegiance

by simplyclockwork



Series: Tumblr Inspired/Prompted Sherlock Fics - Part One [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU + Trope + Prompt Challenge, Abusive Relationship, First Kiss, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mafia Moll Sherlock, Meet Messy, Mob Boss John Watson, Mob Boss Moriarty, Sheriarty - Freeform, mafia! au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: AU + Trope + PromptThis one was requested by demoniccastle on ao3AU:#4 – Mafia!AUTrope:#4 – Meet MessyPrompt:#40 – "If you're happy, then so am I."Additional Prompt:"John a mafia boss, Sherlock a moll to another boss but then they meet and John sweeps him off his feet maybe? I'd like Sherlock completely falling for the rugged, gravelly-voiced, suave boss John."Note:Sherlock is in his 20s. I just wanted to make it clear that he is of age since he keeps being referred to as ‘boy’. Also TW for hints of an abusive relationship (no physical violence)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Tumblr Inspired/Prompted Sherlock Fics - Part One [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528859
Comments: 29
Kudos: 90





	alleged allegiance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demoniccastle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demoniccastle/gifts).



Running errands as Moriarty's 'moll' was beneath Sherlock, or so he thought to himself, climbing a set of stairs with a tray of coffee clutched in his hands. Who would have thought being part of a mafia boss' inner circle would be so boring? 

Sighing, Sherlock pushed through a door with his shoulder. Coffee tray balanced with care against his forearm. The room he stepped into was dominated by a large, round table circled by chairs. Several were occupied by several men and one woman, talking idly with tense faces. Men of muscle leaned against the wall behind the table, guns evident under their jackets. Moriarty's own protection, a tall, ex-military man named Sebastian, lounged with a lit cigarette in one hand. 

Leaning against the table, Moriarty turned at the sound of the opening door. His dark eyes fixed on Sherlock, and he grinned, beckoning the younger man forward. "There you are, sweets," the mob boss crooned, dropping his hands onto Sherlock's hips once he was close enough. "Got the coffees, did you?"

"Yes, Jim," Sherlock murmured, ducking his head to avoid Jim's intense stare. Moriarty's hands tightened, and Sherlock looked up at the unspoken command, pasting a smile on his face. Moriarty grinned, giving him a harder squeeze. 

"Good boy," he praised, tugging at a wayward curl of Sherlock's dark hair. "Now, go on. Hand out the coffees so we can begin." He tapped his palm against Sherlock's arse with a smug grin. 

Sherlock stepped away with burning cheeks and began to hand out the coffees. Most of the other mob bosses ignored him, aside from a few leering smiles and raised eyebrows. Reaching the man at the end, Sherlock kept his eyes on the coffee in his hand, handing it over without looking up. A hand settled on his, warm, small and strong, and Sherlock twitched at the unexpected contact. His eyes darted up, meeting the blue gaze of the man seated in front of him. Sherlock's own hand shook, and coffee sloshed over the open spout in the lid, dripping onto the man's expensive-looking trousers. 

"Sorry!" The word slipped out of Sherlock in a gasp, and he hurried to press his sleeve against the spill, face turning a deep red. The man caught his hand, lifting it gently away from the spot of coffee.

"No harm done," he said. His voice was low and gravelly. "Just an accident." He tried to catch Sherlock's eye again, but Sherlock looked away, biting at his lip. Across the table, Jim sighed.

"Sherlock, you are so clumsy!" Scowling, he turned to the man. "Very sorry, Doctor Watson. You know how it can be, these useless molls." 

Sherlock quivered, and Doctor Watson stiffened beside him. He didn't reply, and Jim waved a hand. "Sherlock, sweetheart, please show Doctor Watson where he can get cleaned up. You'll do that, won't you?" His eyes flashed, and Sherlock's tongue darted out, licking his dry lips.

"Yes, Jim," Sherlock mumbled, turning away to lead Doctor Watson from the room. They passed through the doors in silence, the older man keeping relaxed pace with Sherlock's nervous, quick steps. They reached the washroom, Sherlock wetting a cloth and dabbing at the man's stained trousers. 

"Sorry." His face felt tense and hot. "Very sorry, Doctor Watson." His hands shook, and he fought to control himself. 

A hand touched his chin, turning his face up. Wide-eyed, Sherlock looked into those blue irises again, his face hot. "It's okay. Really." Doctor Watson's words were smooth and intensely gentle. His thumb stroked along Sherlock's jaw. "And please, call me John."

"O-okay. John." Sherlock bit his tongue to stop the stammer. He found himself lost in those blue eyes, and John's touch was warm on his face. Sherlock stared, shivering at the contact.

John cocked his head to the side. "How'd a sweet boy like you end up with Jim Moriarty, of all people?" 

Sherlock looked away, his face closing off. He didn't reply, and he heard John sigh beside him. In a sudden movement, John gripped Sherlock by the waist and lifted him onto the bathroom counter. He placed his hands on either side of his hips, standing between Sherlock's knees to look into his face.

"If you're happy, then so am I," John said, and his voice was fervent. Sherlock stared at him, nervous fingers tapping against the countertop. His eyes flickered back and forth between John's, and he sucked in a breath, coming to a decision.

"I'm not," he said, and his reply was breathless before he tilted forward to wrap his arms and legs around the man in front of him. Their mouths came together, and John jolted in surprise. But, as Sherlock's eyes slipped shut, John's arms moved around his waist, bringing him closer, returning the kiss.

When they separated, John leaned back just far enough to press their foreheads together. "Good to know," he murmured, dragging a thumb over Sherlock's full bottom lip. "Now, how about we get you out of here?"


End file.
